ROANOKE TIMES

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: FRIDAY, February 15, 1991                   TAG: 9102150101
SECTION: BUSINESS                    PAGE: B-5   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: Associated Press
DATELINE: NEW YORK                                LENGTH: Medium


SURVIVORS OF DREXEL MARK ANNIVERSARY OF DEMISE

This Drexel Burnham Lambert Inc. conference had nothing to do with junk bonds, insider trading, federal investigations or a guy named Michael Milken. It also had everything to do with them.

On the anniversary of the firm's downfall, hundreds of former employees toasted Drexel not for the criminal entanglements but for the success that made it Wall Street's most feared and envied investment house in the cutthroat 1980s.

"We were a legendary firm and that's the bottom line," said Rippy Philipps, a 27-year-old securities salesman who since last year landed a job at Kidder, Peabody & Co.

On Feb. 13, 1990, Wall Street's Raiders declared Chapter 11 bankruptcy court protection, after failing to survive a four-year criminal probe, a guilty plea to securities fraud and a $650 million penalty that made it a pariah.

More than 5,000 people lost their jobs. Wednesday evening, about 350 of them packed Ryan McFadden, a 42nd Street bar.

Several senior executives were there, including a former president and a former chairman. Ex-CEO Fred Joseph, who copped the guilty plea, wasn't there; partiers said he wouldn't have been allowed in.

Milken, the junk bond guru, would have been welcome, but he's preparing to serve a 10-year prison sentence. Milken is the troubled genius who made Drexel junk-bond rich. His mistakes also caused its demise.

But there were few Milken apologists in the mostly young, well-dressed reunion crowd that hugged, kissed and high-fived, danced to The Clash and Dee-Lite, and even formed a conga line.

They said Milken's entrepreneurial style permeated the company, not just his Beverly Hills, Calif., high-yield bond department. Smart, confident people made Drexel a leader in many fields besides junk bonds, the risky IOUs that financed many big 1980s takeovers, they said.

Jeffrey Lewis, a 27-year-old securities salesman, said with bravado that the resentment Drexel provoked on Wall Street - and still does - came from its success. He said success came from a creative, happy environment.

"They couldn't touch us," Lewis said of Drexel's competitors. "At first they sneered at us. Then they were begging to do the business. We were accomplishing things other firms couldn't do."



 by CNB